Aftermath: What now?
by Foxy-Floof
Summary: Loosely canon-compliant explanation of what happens after The Promised Day of Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood. This is a slow-burner, of DariusXHeinkel, because supporting characters need love too! Will include a few OC's, hopefully nothing too offensive. Due to work, this'll be a slow updater (twice a year or so.)


Takes place as a loosely canon-compliant epilogue of Fullmetal Brotherhood.

AU takes place after the series ends. As always I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, Fullmetal Brotherhood, or any of the characters, trademarked, copyrighted or otherwise.

Heinkel and Darius after the events of the Promised Day. Takes up after Ed and Al are reunited, and Ed gives up his Gate of Truth.

Heinkel' and Darius' lives in the circus with former Commander Yoki.

smart!Yoki, Darius/Heinkel, Eastern Alchemy, eventual mpreg/gender-shifting, lemons, and other very adult themes. Bondage, trust issues, angst, hurt/comfort, family, romance, adventure, and a whole lot of other things. If someone likes this enough, I'll probably make it a regular thing.

Don't see enough of these characters, so I'm letting them out to play on their own.

Chapter 1: First Month

After the battle in Central had ended, and Edward Elric had performed his "Last Transmutation", life had been a very bumpy ride.

Central was mostly destroyed, and the surrounding nations knew it. The military, or what was left of it, was hanging on by its teeth. Skirmishes were reported all along the borders and internally as well, as the Ishbalan remnants had begun banding together and migrating to their old homeland.

Ed and Al, now very fragile, but whole in body and mind, had gone to ground so they could recover in peace. The government was very insistent that they step forward for their services to the State.

The military, from grunts on up the line to colonels and one very intimidating female general in particular, were singularly unhelpful in shedding any light on the brothers' current whereabouts. Needless to say, the State was upset, and largely ignored in this.

As for himself, Darius was feeling a bit lost. Sure, his name and record were cleared, and he was no longer a wanted man. But he still didn't know quite what to do with himself. Sure his remarkable strength and inhuman stamina were a great asset to finding work, of which there was plenty. And yes, he'd gotten moderately well-paying work with a construction company contracted with rebuilding central command after the massive damage it suffered from "Father" blasting half of it away...

But it was just a job, and the big, thick-set gorilla-chimera still felt that he was missing something important in his life. Still, work was work, and kept his rather hefty grocery bill paid in full each month, and left him enough to save a bit, and live independently.

Speaking of work, it was probably time for him to roll his over-sized ass out of bed and start preparing for work this morning. He spent a leisurely few moments just scratching all the itches out, and stretching, letting his body catch up with his brain. A sonorous rumble from his belly served as the last bit of motivation he needed to roll over and shove his legs over the side of his bed. As he sat on the edge of his bed, he considered his place. Not huge, but the higher ceilings definitely were a bonus to his mind, as standard-height ceilings left him feeling cramped and irritable. 1 oversized bedroom, 1 oversized bathroom, a living room, study, kitchen, and rather spartan laundry room served well as his personal sanctuary.

Darius didn't have a whole lot of personal possessions, having lived in the military almost his entire life. Spending a year and some change being officially 'dead' and 'wanted' respectively, left him with nothing initally but the clothes on his back. A few kind words from Edward Elric had seen him set up with at least the bare essentials of life: bed, tables, chairs, sturdy clothing, and the various household goods he'd learned to live without.

When peace came, he'd followed his instincts which said that food and shelter were paramount. So when his logical process insisted that stealing was not okay, he'd gone in immediate search of paying work. Being large, and very obviously in shape, allowed him to get rather heavy work clearing rubble and debris from demolished or condemned buildings.

In the Western quadrant of Central City, where Colonel Mustang had initiated his disabling tactic against the soldiers loyal to Central Command and Fuhrer King Bradley, there were countless buildings damaged by controlled fire-bombs. Much of it was in the form of blown out windows and doors, cracked walls and holes in the cobblestone streets. But it all had to be torn down before it could be rebuilt, and without Edward Elric to help speed up the repair work with alchemy, Darius had plenty of opportunities.

It was a warm day, as most of them tended to be this time of year, but even so, Darius wasn't sweating, even under a quarter-ton hunk of broken and blasted concrete. His foreman had initially protested his refusal to use levers and the various pick-axes and shovels designed for the work at hand.

That initial protest gave way quickly when Darius quickly BROKE a half-dozen of the picks, having used them beyond their limits to great effect on the larger chunks of concrete and masonry.

Thereafter, the foreman submitted and let Darius simply heft and tote the larger pieces as-is, without further questions about safety.

After about four and a half hours of steady, very productive work, Darius had cleared another intersection of rubble. He stopped to return to the field desk that was keeping track of the work-site's progress to pick up his pack, with his... very substantial lunch.

One-dozen sandwiches, one-dozen hard-boiled eggs, ten pickles, and a gallon of lemonade later, Darius was full. The growling monster in his belly was satisfied once more. Looking up from his lunch-wrappings, he caught sight of the residents and shopkeepers that were doing their utmost to keep living as normally as possible despite the wreckage strewn everywhere.

One couple in particular caught his eye, a young man and woman, picking their way across the street, to the next block of shops. She stumbled, catching herself against the shoulder of her companion. Who turned, smiled, and pulled her close, to kiss her and set her squarely on her feet again. They continued on out of the intersection, and drew Darius' gaze with them.

Slowly he came to awareness that he was in fact, Lonely. After years in the military, even the clandestine chimera-division, and the two-odd years of running and fighting since then, he'd always had people around him, even if it Was just that annoying pipsqueak Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People, Hero of Central, Hero of Lior, Too-Many-Damn-Titles, Ed Elric.

Now, he found himself Lonely.

As this realization struck, he was immediately assaulted by a memory:

Heavy breathing, musk, heat, sweat, and pheromones reeking of fear and pain.

Tawny hide, and honey-colored mane. Dark eyes, slitted like a cat's.

Heinkel.

He hadn't heard from him in a week or two. One of the perks of his job was the phone line installed in his flat. Owing to his immense strength, he was on call not just for his job, but for emergency rescue in the event another worker was trapped by falling debris. Hence, a phone line, and his contact with both the Fullmetal pipsqueak and Heinkel.

He MISSED Heinkel. How weird was that? Perhaps not so weird, following the events of 'Father' and the harvesting of all Amestris for the making of an enormously potent philosopher's stone to subdue 'god's' power...

But he'd been partnered with Heinkel even before Fullmetal. They'd undergone their final transmutations together, and the re-training and disorientation of dealing with their instincts together.

Darius was grateful for the whistle that called workers back to work, and the physical work took his mind off of his new and awkward FEELINGS. Clearing rubble was ironically, not just physical work. To get the most done without killing or crippling yourself, even your enhanced chimera self, took thought and understanding weight, balance, and potential for slips, falls, and collapses.

After another four and a half hours of solid work, he stopped by the work-desk, collected his pay chit for the day, and went home. Along the way, he stopped to grab a few groceries, and a couple personal items. Walking from store to store, he noticed how quickly people picked up the pieces of their lives and showed determination to keep living their lives.

But it was also worrisome, how quickly the people of Central also seemed to forget what had happened. As soon as their portion of the city was fully re-built, they settled right back in and it was as if nothing had ever happened.

Of course there were changes. The military was no longer so prominent. You didn't see the blue baggy pants and overcoats of the State on every street corner. They were largely diverted to the borders these days, as Amestris worked to re-build it's national security and repair relations with their neighboring nations.

Personally, Darius didn't sweat the big stuff anymore. Since he was discharged, with an official reinstatement and thanks of the new administration, he was, strictly speaking, just another civilian.

Not that he was foolish enough to really believe that he wasn't checked on a regular basis. Something about 'not falling into old bad company', or some such thing.

Again, Darius didn't really sweat that kind of thing anymore. He worked harded, earned a decent living because of the risky nature of his job, and was steadily filling out a proper nest egg for himself.

He eventually wanted to move out of Central entirely, but he wasn't in a rush, since he hadn't made up his mind where he wanted to go, long-term.

A couple of the locals called out to Darius, waving and smilling.

They'd come to know him in this quarter of the bustling metropolis as the local "strong-man" and an all-around dependable type.

This particular couple ran a small pharmacy and druggists. The wife was a small-time alchemist, who specialized in fine transmutations, refining and extracting medicinal compounds from numerous sources, plant, animal, as well as mineral.

Her husband ran the compounding, blending, and packaging end of their little shop, and kept the books. He also had a friendly, tranquil demeanor that seemed to appeal to the simian parts of Darius' own personality.

That's why he took especial note of their greeting today, as Mr. and Mrs. Corbrook had rather pleased grins adorning their faces.

"Mr. Darius! Mr. Darius! We have your order ready!"

This of course, caught Darius' attention instantly.

"Oh? So you figured out the problem with long-term stability and settling problems?"

"Oh yes, Mr. Darius. My darling Sara finally figured out that we needed stable covalent bonding of the particles, rather than simple colloidal- OW!"

Mrs. Corbrook had shoved a rather pointy elbow into her husband's side, cutting his tangential rambling off.

"What my silly husband Jeremy meant, is that your order is ready. I'm honestly a bit embarrassed at how long it took us to get it together. But we have it ready, if you've a few extra minutes to step into the back and let us wrap it up for you."

"Oh! That would be great, Mrs. Corbrook."

"Call me Sara, Mr. Darius! After all, it's not like we're strangers around here!"

"Ahh, sure, Sara. I'm off work now anywho, so I'm free for the rest of the afternoon."

Without further ado, the couple grinned and bracketed the big man, ushering him quickly through the doors of their shop.

Darius was left a bit surprised at how eager they both seemed, and puzzled when he glanced over his shoulder and saw Sara flipping the bolt and sign on their front door. But again, he'd known them both for months now, and was honestly resigned to their rather amusing quirks.

.-.-.-.-.-.-..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

When Darius had first met Sara and Jeremy, it had been completely by accident. He'd been drinking with his co-workers after a particularly nasty day where a subsidence in the street occurred right under their feet as they were working.

Two men had been driven off to the hospital and wouldn't be able to return to work for at least two months, with broken legs, and cracked ribs.

Darius had had his fill, and had begged off crashing on a nearby co-worker's couch. His instincts were pushing towards the front, and he had to leave before he went and made a mess. With his super-human strength, he had to be careful, so careful, not to hurt others or break things when he was drunk, tired, or otherwise distracted.

He didn't remember exactly how it happened, but he woke up on a couch early the next morning. His head was fuzzy, with the lingering effects of both sleep and hangover. Not unusual, unless you counted the wide, excited blue eyes of a pretty middle-aged woman less than two feet from his.

With a lurch, he pushed himself upright, and felt the room spin for an instant, before he centered himself.

"W-WHO are you?"

"Oh, you're awake! I'm so glad, I have so many questions for you. When I found you passed out against our front door last night, I was shocked for a moment, but then I remember the stories from the fall of Fuhrer King Bradley, and I recognized you!"

Granted, Darius knew he was no brainiac, but his brain was being exceptionally slow this morning.

"...What?"

"Oh Mr. Darius, I'm sorry, let me introduce myself. I'm Sara Corbrook, and you're in the waiting room of a pharmacy that my husband and I run. I'm an alchemist who specializes in medicine, and my sister's favorite cousin is named Sheska...

"She told me all kinds of stories about the Fullmetal Alchemist and their friends. She mentioned you a fair few times, on account of how big and strong you are.

Is it true that you're as strong as Louis Alexander Armstrong?

I heard he fought a huge monster the size of a truck inside Central Headquarters during the coup..."

As Sara rambled along, rattling off anecdotes and questions like a machine-gun, Darius tried to make sense of what she was saying, and caught enough to relax, and just wait for her to run out of steam before answering.

"Miss Corbrook.."

"No, no, no! Call me Sara. I insist. You fought to bring down the corrupt military and helped save all of Amestris. You're a hero as far as I'm concerned."

"I didn't really do much, Sara. It was mostly Fullmetal and his brother and their father who brought it all to an end. Mostly I was just fighting to stay alive."

"Nonsense! I heard about those artificial humans, homunculi, that were trying to eat everyone up in Central headquarters.

"I also heard that you were there for the final confrotation, when the Fullmetal Alchemist destroyed the one known as 'Father'."

At this, Darius felt a slight tingling in his face, and couldn't bring himself to look Sara in the eye. He'd only been one of hundreds. All of them fighting for their lives, and to stop the monsters created on orders of the military command.

"Well, thank you Sara. I'm flattered you think so much of me, and thank you for taking me into your home last night... but I better get home. I have to clean up and then get back to work. I'm probably late as it is."

"Well Darius, It's been a pleasure to meet you, and I wish you all the best. And if you ever need medical attention, please come and visit us. I promise we'll take good care of you. You've earned it."

Sara smiled and seemed to suddenly twinkle. Darius found it unnervingly similar to a particularly flamboyant Strong Arm Alchemist...

... at least the sparkle was blue, instead of pink or white.

*O-*o-*O-*O-*o-*O-*O-*o-*O-*O-*o-*O-*O-*o-*O-*O-*o-*O-*O-*o-*O*

..Which brought him rather neatly back to the present moment, just as Sara was finishing her lecture on the scientific underpinnings of his request.

He'd come to accept that he was the way he was, and nothing would change about that. He had simian dna mixed in and forcibly overwritten on top of his human dna.

While he enjoyed the strength, healing, and overall sturdiness of his current body, it wasn't all roses. The strange cravings(chewing on chalk, and hunks of wood?) The impulse control issues(he'd caught himself just shy of crushing Scar in the jubilation following Father's defeat.)

Never mind the fact that he ate about 10 times more than anyone else, and couldn't feel things like normal. Everything physical was reduced in intensity. While excellent for heavy combat, where a high pain threshold was a must. It did mean that casual touching was all but impossible for him to notice.

His manager and immediate supervisors were all innured to having to smack his shoulder with a hammer or hunk of rock to get his attention.

A normal punch to the shoulder bruised them before it was enough force for him to notice. Likewise, normal cutlery and dishes crumpled or shattered under his grip. It took weeks, and a large chunk of his first paychecks to pay for titanium plates and cutlery that would flex rather than break.

On the plus side, it meant he could truly relax at home, without worry for his insane strength.

But he'd ended up wondering about certain. . . . "other" needs. Her very friendly and frank manner had extended to just about everything scientific, and she'd rather quickly volunteered herself as his primary physician. While not strictly-speaking certified, she was commonly accepted as BETTER than many doctors. This was thanks to her advanced studies with alchemic distillation of herbal remedies and intuitive sense for illness.

And so he'd eventually gathered up his courage and asked her about... interpersonal concerns. Her gentle laugh, and rather matter-of-fact response regarding male and female, arousal, and the physical reactions involved, both flustered him and soothed him. Sara didn't mock him for his ignorance, and didn't patronize him by giving silly pet names for things to try and "dumb it down" for him.

He'd had concerns regarding hurting a partner, and managing to achieve satisfaction.

Sara had predictably, called in her husband, and he'd gamely endured numerous small tests comparing and contrasting physical reaction times, sensitivities, and gut reactions to various stimuli.

Darius discovered that while he was far less sensitive to pressure and abrasion; temperature, texture, and other more subtle things (grass, of all things!) had a fairly normal reaction. It was simply blotted out by the stronger or more immediate stimuli in his surroundings.

No matter, he'd asked her if there were any long-term solutions to the problem, and she'd taken him on as her long-term project.

Now, almost a year later, she was going to finally test the results of her experiments on him, having tested first on a variety of insects, fish, and birds, to ensure that there were no toxic or permanent effects.


End file.
